Green is the Shade of Envy
by Veinne
Summary: Caroline Bingley was snobbish, proud, and so very unlike her brother; but then again, cruelty is simply a defence mechanism employed by those who are bitter and heartbroken.
1. 6

**This will be a five-chapter ficlet about Caroline Bingley as she grows up. I have an avid fascination with how she's portrayed, both in the original Jane Austen book and other fics, so I decided to show my own perspective on her.**

**Disclaimer: This book was written in the 1800s. I'm not dead yet. I think that's sufficient information to assume that _I'm not Jane Austen__._**

**Update: Changed a grammatical mistake a reviewer pointed out.**

**Update 2: Changed some plot points at the suggestion of a reviewer.**

* * *

"Caroline, the Darcys are coming over today, put on that dress I bought you last Sunday and go out to greet them," her mother said, kneeling down a little to speak to the little girl.

"But Mum, that dress is so itchy and uncomfortable!" the girl whined, stomping her foot a few times to emphasize the point. She was _sure_ she had developed some rashes because of those detestable frills.

"Now now, Caroline, it makes you look lovely," her mother said sincerely. Caroline shuffled her feet, embarrassed but smiling. She liked being pretty. It made her feel special. If she couldn't be smart like her parents said Charles was, she could at least be the prettiest girl in the room.

Bearing the itches and forcing a smile onto her face, she went out to greet the "_Darcys_".

She'd heard quite a lot about them. Apparently, they were rich and successful like Daddy and Mummy were, which must mean they were nice as well. Then again, Aunt Isabella was rich and successful too, but she was anything if pleasant.

"Do they have a _girl_?" she asked excitedly, tugging at the corner of her mother's dress. She'd recently received a new tea set for her dolls on her sixth birthday, and she was dying to get to use it. Playing by herself wasn't fun, Louisa was nice but a tad condescending, and _Charles_ definitely didn't entertain the thought of playing with her.

Charles was an idiot, really. She brought her nose up higher and sniffed in disdain. _Boys_.

"Yes, dear, her name's Georgiana," her mother said hurriedly, ushering her out of the house.

Georgiana! That was a pretty name. She was going to be the best of friends with this Georgiana - maybe she could even give her a pet name, something like _Georgie__. _And they could play dolls together and have tea parties and -

She stopped short in horror, having swung open the door in her excitement, only to be greeted with the sight of Charles and a _boy _talking to each other like fast friends. A boy! Of all things!

"Ah, there you are, Caroline!" her father exclaimed, hastily leading her over to speak with the man in the stiff grey suit. "Come and greet Mr Darcy. Darcy, this is my youngest daughter, Caroline."

"Hello there, Miss Bingley," the man said, leaning over to shake her hand. He didn't seem like the sort to smile much, but at least he didn't treat her like a toddler.

"Good morning, sir," she said, curtsying like she had been taught to. "Who is that, may I ask?" she asked, gesturing to the boy next to Charles. He seemed older, well-groomed, but Caroline was very much unwilling to relinquish her bad opinion of the male sex.

"Aha, I see you've noticed my son," Mr Darcy said, finally breaking out in a smile. "He is a great source of comfort to me, the good lad. Fourteen this year! They seem to just grow and grow and grow, yes, Mr Bingley?"

"Couldn't have said it better myself," her father said, patting her on the shoulder. "One day I will look down and my children will all be grown up, it seems! My dear, why don't you go and greet the young Mr Darcy?"

"Mother said that they had a daughter," Caroline said, rooted to the spot persistently. Over her dead body would she say hello to the Darcy boy. He might have looked well-groomed, but he sure stood forlornly. Fourteen! Caroline would have to grow so very much to catch up with someone that age.

"Oh, yes, you're speaking of Georgiana, I presume," Mr Darcy said. "She's only just two. Wonderful girl, but I'm afraid she's fallen ill recently. Down with the flu."

Two! _Way _too young. Caroline frowned. No tea parties, then.

"Flu?" her mother asked, coming out of the house and joining the conversation, having ensured that her appearance was neat and stately as always. "Oh, simply _everyone_ seems to falling ill right now, I suspect it might be the rainy season, you know. Aunt Isabella had a servant come by just yesterday to tell us that she is feeling rather sickly as well. How dreadful!"

How wonderful! Caroline thought vindictively, relishing in the idea of horrid old Aunt Isabella sick and bedridden.

"Dear, why don't you run along and talk with your brother and his new friend?" her mother asked, looking down with a kind smile.

It was inevitable, apparently. Caroline nodded obediently but morosely and headed off towards the direction of Charles and his new friend. She hoped this Darcy boy was not as dreadfully impolite and _weird_ like Charles was. It would simply disgust her to the ends of the earth.

The boy was staring at her out of his peripheral vision, as she walked over hesitantly. He looked rather intimidating.

"Hello," she said, proffering a hand. She felt as though she was an alien coming to sign a treaty. _Show that you come in peace_, her mind said. She forced a smile.

On second thought, she felt like one of the help from the farm trying to approach wild cattle.

"Morning," he said, turning over to look at her. He didn't smile, but she was immediately struck by his dark, handsome looks.

"I'm - I'm Caroline," she said, stuttering a little, completely taken aback by the fact that this was a boy that she was not utterly indifferent to or repulsed by. He hadn't done anything disgusting. Yet. "Caroline Bingley," she said, forcing her voice to be steady and sending him a smile as well.

"Right!" Charles said cheerfully, from beside the boy. "This is my younger sister, the one I told you about. She's rather nice, but she can be rather _girly_ sometimes, you know. And then there's Louisa, but you know how older girls are like."

Darcy nodded solemnly, and Caroline reeled in horror. Why did her brother feel the need to taint her name at all opportunities?

"Charles!" she said, frowning. The aforementioned redheaded boy looked over with a bright smile as thought nothing were amiss.

"Your brother speaks highly of you," Darcy said. Caroline blushed and looked down at her feet. She could not help but notice that he had a rather nice chin. To think that she had been repulsed by the thought of him not three minutes ago!

"You remind me of my sister," he said, finally cracking an encouraging smile. Caroline held her breath - that smile could cure cancers. "She's quite shy."

"My name is Fitzwilliam, by the way. Fitzwilliam Darcy."

* * *

**By the way Darcy is actually smiling and a perfectly normal (if a little aloof) boy because Wickham hasn't ruined his life yet. And many might protest that Caroline is in no way shy like Georgiana Darcy, but first impressions can be quite misleading, after all.**

**I can't help but feel rather nervous that their language is unlike that of the Regency period. Do let me know of any spelling/grammatical/logical/historical errors or plotholes. I made an effort to research their ages before I wrote this. Darcy was about 28 when the book opened, Charles was 23, Caroline and Elizabeth were both about 20, and Georgiana was 16. I'm not sure about Louisa, but she's older than Charles.**


	2. 16

**The second chapter of Green is the Shade of Envy is up! I do enjoy exploring the character of Caroline Bingley, but I'm afraid I'm not very adept at using the old language common to the Regency period.**

**Disclaimer: Nope, not dead, not Jane Austen, not the author of Pride and Prejudice.**

* * *

Caroline was sitting in the corner of the ballroom. From afar, she could see Charles chatting merrily with a stiff-looking lady, and Louisa clutching at the arm of her newlywed husband, Mr Hurst. Caroline approved of Mr Hurst, but he was no Darcy. Pity he was such a drunk, too.

Next to her sat Darcy. In the first few years in which she had been in his acquaintance, she had encouraged him to participate in events and act more lively, but later on she had learned to just let him have his way. If anything, Caroline had learned to adopt the habit of skulking in the background and insulting everyone in attendance - he seemed to do the same.

"How do you like the ball?" she asked. "Of course," she added hastily, not wanting irritation to shadow his face like so many other times in which she had professed a like for something he found distasteful. "It's rather unpleasant and all. The girls here are all rather short of attractiveness, and the men are crude and behave in the most unpleasant manner."

The shadow of irritation crossed his face anyway. Caroline despaired internally. Maybe it was just her presence.

"Yes," he said curtly. "Very much irritating, the entire affair."

Oh, how dreadfully quiet he had become after his late father's departure from this world. He had been aloof in his childhood, sure, much quieter than Charles, but that was a quality she had enjoyed in her early adolescence. Now he was downright moody.

Then again, he had much to deal with. Rumours were that he was even facing financial difficulties, but those she was quick to dispel. He was as wealthy as ever, with ten thousand pounds of income a year. There was a certain unnerving story about a clergyman, but she had decided to forget about that one.

"And how do you find the entertainment?" Caroline asked. She found the musician on the pianoforte simply delightful, but she wouldn't venture so far as to say that.

"The pianoforte music is rather soothing, do you not think?" she asked hesitantly. _Stick to the neutral, Caroline, stick to it._ "Of course, it is not on the par of your sister's lovely skills in the art - to think, only twelve, yet so talented! - but it does for some people, I suppose. Louisa has been playing since she was six - not as talented as your sister, of course."

"Of course," he parroted, with a quick, unamused quirk of the eyebrow she almost managed to miss. So, he found the talk boring? Caroline frowned and crossed her arms. She had no more tricks up her sleeve to engage him in conversation - if he were to remain silent, then so be it.

She sipped quietly at her drink, watching as the couples danced broodingly. She held no penchant nor liking for the activity, if it was not going to concern him somehow. In her younger years, she had dreamt of him sweeping her off her feet and lifting her away from the boring life she led, but they evidently were nothing but daydreams.

She watched Darcy out of her peripheries, sipping calmly at his wine and brooding. She had never seen him inebriated before. On normal occasions he drank only one or two glasses, but he seemed to take his alcohol well. She could not help but find it an attractive trait, but then again, she found every trait of the Darcy's attractive. If he had a habit of picking his nails, it would not be of much surprise to her if she found it attractive as well.

She could not help but question internally, however, what he might speak of should he ever be inebriated. She always wondered if he ever thought of her in a positive light. He certainly did not seem to view her in such. Maybe the speech coaxed from a drunken mind could shed some light on the subject.

"Caroline?" her brother asked, tapping on her shoulder. She looked up, her train of thought interrupted.

"Yes?" she asked, rather irritated. Oh, her perfect, pleasant brother had come knocking again. She always felt annoyed when he made attempts to talk to her as though he cared deeply about her - surely it was nothing but a farce? Since young Charles had always been oddly passionate about things Caroline hardly made an effort to care about. It made her rather prickly with him, but deep in her mind she wondered if it could be envy that she was feeling.

"Could I speak with you for a moment?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, alright," she snapped, making no attempt to hide the fact that she was not happy with the situation. He led her to a corner of the room and frowned at her contemplatively.

"Well?" she asked, tapping her foot impatiently. "Do get on with it."

"Caroline," he began, before pausing again. "I'm... concerned. You see, Darcy has been telling me that you've been making... uh, how do I phrase this? Unwanted advances."

Caroline felt deeply insulted.

"And did he tell you that they were so very _unwanted_?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Did you even try to stop him from impugning upon my honour as a lady?"

"He..." Charles said, with great difficulty. "He implied that they were not of great welcome to him, yes."

She felt a stabbing pain in somewhere in her chest, and she looked away to hide the film of tears in her eyes.

"Caroline," Charles said softly. "I just don't want you getting hurt. After all, you are my sister, and I've heard that an engagement has been arranged between him and Miss de Bourgh."

Oh, how she detested that horrid, sickly Anne de Bourgh, coughing away on her bed like Aunt Isabella! How she wanted to burn her alive! _She's a fragile little creature, but she's such a talented darling_, Aunt Catherine de Bourgh had said. Caroline hated them both.

She would've proclaimed such passionate distaste for arranged marriages as well, but that would be burning a bridge between her and Darcy that she still wished to keep. Just in case.

"I'm very worried about how his disposition towards events and affairs have affected you, Caroline," Charles said, earnest shining from his eyes. "I understand that Darcy is going through a difficult time right now, and I respect him for undergoing the pain so remarkably well, but you used to be such a happy little creature. Don't you remember playing merrily upon Father's pianoforte, and laughing along with the rest of us? Now you exclaim such shocking things about other people."

"They deserve it," she replied scathingly, reeling back a little when she saw Charles flinch.

"Caroline," he said. "Darcy is a great man, and I deeply admire him for his level-headed nature and intelligent mind, but it isn't _healthy_ for a young woman like you to just pine away like this -"

"Don't tell me what to do," she hissed. "Just because Mother and Father assigned you as a guardian after their death doesn't give you the right to hold reign over my life and behaviour. They always favoured you either way. I am of perfectly able mind to do what I want."

He slumped a little. "Mother and Father loved us all equally-"

"Besides," she cut in, just before she left. "I'm not _pining away_. Despite what you might think, Charles, I most definitely do not carry a torch for Fitzwilliam Darcy. He's just a friend I wish to see happy."

The sadness in her brother's usually bright blue eyes made her pause. He looked so earnest in his advice, so sincere.

It almost made her reconsider plunging down the path she was headed for.

Almost.

After all, she was sixteen.

People would start thinking she was an old maid.

* * *

**'Course, the clergyman's story Caroline heard of was actually the truth about George Wickham. People hear what they want to hear, I suppose.**

**Let me know of spelling/grammatical/logical errors, if there are any. I apologise for any of them in advance, I just spill my ideas out onto the computer and I don't have a beta. Do leave a review on the way out, if you could find the time.**

****&amp; this will be my last chapter in a while, I'm quite busy this month. My next update will be around... early June. Sorry! D:** **


	3. 20

**Disclaimer: Pride and Prejudice I own not.**

* * *

Caroline simply failed to see what was so _admirable_ about the Bennet sisters.

At first, she thought she only had to deal with the eldest, the hag with her heart-shaped face and soft tresses of hair and gentle, soft seductions clueless old Charles could not differentiate from true shows of affection.

Caroline _refused_ to feel guilty about that entire affair - Jane Bennet had made it rather obvious to all of them in the vicinity (except maybe Charles, the poor sodden fool) that she did not feel as strongly about her brother as Charles evidently did.

She did not blame him entirely - certainly, the entire matter would not have unfolded as it had done if he had just been a tad more observant, but those Bennet sisters' sharp tongues could spin nothing other than lies, after all. Charles was not completely at the blame. He had fallen for the trap hook, line and sinker, but Jane Bennet was a skilled fisherman in these waters.

Her conviction had all the more been strengthened when Darcy voiced a similar opinion. She had pondered over the matter with silent triumph, glad that she and him were finally on the same page, yet -

What had changed?

A wedding invitation and two letter lays before her on her desk. Caroline's working space was neat and orderly, so the three of them, crumpled and torn, stood out in great contrast with the rest of her things.

She had read the wedding invitation furiously, wondering where she had gone wrong. Indeed, she had opposed her brother going to Longbourn, but Darcy had followed him - had he failed to prevent Charles from falling within Jane Bennet's fishing net? No, the letter that had accompanied the wedding invitation spoke of Darcy's blessings to the couple.

So Darcy approved of this pairing? Her brother - a member of an illustrious family, _her _family - he was to marry this... this cow without a single penny to her name? How could Charles see _anything_ behind the shell of her accursed good looks?

And the second letter - Caroline did not even want to _think_ about the second letter.

Curse Elizabeth Bennet! She had been the most unexpected of blows. Caroline had been so preoccupied dealing with the predicament the eldest Bennet sister had presented that she had completely disregarded the second sister.

Caroline had seen the expression on Darcy's face when he had spoken of her just the other day - he held some degree of sentiment for her, she knew, but she hadn't thought - had never _imagined_ that the sentiment would run this deep. A passing fancy, she had thought of it, wondered how long it would take before Darcy would manage to chase the new desperate lady away.

Except Elizabeth Bennet was different. She _wasn't_ a desperate lady, shoving her inheritance (or lack thereof, now that Caroline mediated upon it) and handsome looks in Darcy's face. In fact, Elizabeth had not shown any semblance of affection nor made any attempt at flirtation towards the man. Maybe her lack of flirtation was a type of flirtation, in her hometown.

Elizabeth _certainly_ did not earn the scorn he would always shower upon the other ladies.

At first, Caroline had deemed her blunt honesty and crude sense of humour cause for a lack of concern. Surely Darcy could not find such a rude, untalented woman of value? And yet, later on, Caroline could not help but realise with growing horror that Darcy appeared to find Elizabeth's lack of manners _charming_.

In previous circumstances, when Caroline had been worried that Darcy's affections would transfer from - well, nobody - to a new lady, she had tried her hand at copying whatever Darcy might have found attractive in the other women. Imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, after all.

When the gossip started going around that Mary Prenneth would inherit a large sum of money from her uncle after his death, Darcy had briefly spoken of her newfound eligibility - three days later, Caroline began making suggestive comments about her own enviable dowry.

Two years before, Anna Barker had been all the men would talk about, which Caroline had not paid much attention to - that is, until Darcy had commented that she had a handsome face, at which point Caroline started paying more care to the makeup she applied and caked on whatever beauty products that were in fashion.

But Elizabeth Bennet's honest and fresh-faced charm was not a type of makeup she could just start caking on herself. To be frank, Caroline simply did _not_ know how to imitate Elizabeth Bennet. She was just so - different.

She was her age, too. Lord, Caroline was twenty. By the society's standards, she was already becoming something of an old maid. Louisa had already been comfortably married at her age - she felt like she had wasted all her entire life chasing one man, and snubbing all the others who had actually came to her _willingly_.

It was evident, though, that this one man she had been determinedly trying to catch up with had been - had always been, when she hadn't been paying attention - entranced with another woman.

_This must be what they dub 'heartbreak'_, Caroline thought, letting fresh tears fall on an already tear-ridden letter. Why? Had Caroline not been good enough for Darcy? She had spent all this time just _trying_, trying so _hard_ to be what he wanted, to be what he needed, but she felt like she had never truly understood the man she had stood by all these years.

The letter crumpled within her fist.

The last paragraph had hurt the most.

_Caroline, it has never been much of a mystery to me that you held a certain degree of (a splash of ink) affection towards me. I wish you no pain, but I have never been able to return your _(a blotch of ink) _feelings. I do hope you will be able to find your happiness, although it does not lie with me, and I wish with all my heart that you will be able to give Elizabeth and I your blessings, for she makes me happier than I have ever been. You know I care for you, Caroline. You have always been alike a sister to me._

They hurt, his words.

It felt like a dagger, long inserted within her abdomen upon the realisation that Darcy held feelings for Elizabeth, was being twisted painfully in her gut, jabbing at all the right places to make her groan, to make her clench her fists with the pure unadulterated _pain_ of it all.

_Like a sister like a sister like a sister_, her mind whispered, and Caroline thought that maybe she had always been a masochist in secret, because she picked up a piece of parchment and penned a congratulatory letter on Elizabeth's newfound sentiments towards Darcy (_her _Darcy, her mind said, but maybe not, maybe she had always been his but he had never really been hers), because that was what Darcy had said he wanted and she had never been one to refuse him anyway.

She barely got past '_Congratulations_' before breaking down, because anything else would be a lie, a gaping hole in her moral integrity, but she forged on afterwards, wiping away her tears and spinning lie after lie after lie because if Darcy wanted sugarcoated lies then _god damn it _he would get them, Caroline had nothing else left to offer either ways.

Her throat tasted bitter and her mind was flooded with _so much __grief_ and her guts felt like they had been split open and poured out from her body and she doubled over and wept again because after all, she had only been a small rowing boat trying to overcome a towering wave in the ocean that was Fitzwilliam Darcy.

* * *

**I'm actually quite a big fan of the Bennet sisters, but I'm thinking Caroline probably does not have a very high opinion of her. So, new chapter is up! Let me know of any errors you find, I don't have a beta and the slips I make are frankly embarrassing.**


	4. 28

"Elizabeth," she said, with a sly smile. "I heard the town is having a fair soon, you should contribute your two cents. After all, you have _so_ much free time, darling. I want to go, I have _so_ many ideas for it, but sadly Henry has been called to London on some _very_ important business, you know, it can't be helped."

"I would love to go too," Elizabeth said, smiling in return. It may have looked sincere, Caroline told herself, but sincerity wasn't _that_ cheerful. "Unfortunately, I won't be free during the fair either, I'm visiting my family back in Longbourne soon."

"I see," Caroline smiled painfully. Visiting Pemberley had its pros and cons - on one hand, seeing Darcy, on another... dealing with Elizabeth Bennet. Caroline flinched as she corrected herself. Elizabeth _Darcy_.

"So, I see you've taken to gardening!" Caroline said, switching the subject with a smile that hopefully did not look too forced. "It's not one of the more culturally _refined_ arts, but I suppose you _would_ enjoy something of the sort, it seems very much your... area of expertise."

"Why, thank you," Elizabeth said graciously, with a dip of her head in acknowledgement. Caroline seethed inside. She missed the earlier years of Darcy and Elizabeth's marriage, when riling up Elizabeth had been _fun_. Now all she did was flash that fake smile at Caroline and make her feel sick inside. "I do wonder what the gentlemen are up to, they're taking an awfully long time on their morning walk. I wish I had joined them."

"Well, Henry has a _very_ important business prospect to discuss with Darcy," Caroline said, ignoring the concealed barb in Elizabeth's remark. "Darcy is not very experienced in the field of business, but he succeeds well in everything he dabbles in, I swear. It's been such a long while, I remember when we were are all just young adults, exploring the opportunities of the world... Of course, back then we hadn't met your," a curl of her lips, "_esteemed_ family."

"Ah, yes," Elizabeth said, showing the first signs of discomfort. Caroline hid a smirk of triumph, but Elizabeth's face soon sported a cheerier expression. "I suppose you have known my husband for a longer while than I have. Always so lovely to meet your life partner's childhood friends."

Caroline clenched her fists.

"So," Elizabeth continued. "How is dear Charles? I heard you and Henry met up with him in London a few weeks ago. The last time I saw him and Jane was last year, I miss them both horribly. I correspond with them through letters, sure, but Jane always hides her troubles and convinces everyone she's fine..."

Elizabeth sighed a little, and Caroline felt something strange twitch in her. She had never really considered Elizabeth an actual person, with her own virtues and flaws, and seeing a different side of her, being reminded that Elizabeth was not only Caroline's rival but also a sister and a friend, it felt... weird.

"I'm sure she's doing just fine," Caroline said uncomfortably. It came out rather stiff. "My brother is a very devoted and caring husband, and Jane has always been rather... self-sufficient."

"What do you mean by that?" Elizabeth said, head snapping up with an expression of thinly-veiled anger. "I don't suppose you're repeating the opinion you had several years back? When you thought my sister was an emotionless hag that would do anything for money?"

Caroline was rather taken aback by this new viciousness. Her little debates with Elizabeth up until now had always been rather concealed under polite exchanges and greetings, but even a stranger could tell that Elizabeth Darcy was very much angered.

"I only meant that I thought Jane had always taken rather good care of herself," she hastened to correct the misunderstanding. Sure, she had made her remark with a few less than noble intentions, but she hadn't thought that Elizabeth would react so violently. Alright, maybe it wasn't a misunderstanding so much as a gross over-exaggeration on Elizabeth's part. Who said such things to a harmless comment?

Elizabeth eyed her suspiciously, and Caroline pondered upon this for a moment.

"I wish I had the bond you have with Jane. I'm afraid neither my brother nor my sister feel as strongly towards me as you do towards Jane. Do your other siblings share this remarkable relationship?" Caroline asked, without any bad intentions for once. It was a simple curiousity.

"Not really, unfortunately," Elizabeth said, with a little laugh. She stared out the window for a moment, as though thinking back on a memory, before continuing. "You'd be surprised as to how much Charles and Louisa care about you," Elizabeth said. "I hear Louisa is always sending letters and gifts to you, and the last time I saw Charles, he asked me many times to inquire after your health as he did not want to do it himself. I think he believes that you will not willingly accept his brotherly affection."

_I doubt Charles' feelings are genuine, he just wants to put up a show of good will in front of his sister-in-law_, Caroline thought bitterly. _And Louisa only ever sends things to keep up appearances._

Instead of voicing that, Caroline said, "Oh, yes, Charles is always very caring, I suppose. But he does not act like a caring brother, he acts like a caring stranger. He is simply concerned about the health and happiness of the entire world population. It's in his nature."

Elizabeth looked at her incredulously, and she shuffled a little.

"Charles is very... compassionate," she asserted again, swallowing down her bitterness. "Your sister is lucky to have him, and I'm sure she knows that too. There is no need to fret over your sister's well-being."

"Yes, I suppose she has the best treatment with Charles. Still, as a sister, I worry sometimes... What if she doesn't find her new home comfortable but is not willing to make a hassle? She buries every single discomfort just for everyone's convenience but I wish she'd just voice out her opinion sometimes."

"Well..." Caroline hesitated, surprised at this sudden turn of events. Was Elizabeth _confiding_ in her? This was against all of the expectations she had when she started this conversation. Was she not angry at her two minutes ago? This woman went through emotions as quickly as a horse carriage.

"My sincerest apologies, I had not meant to trouble you with my opinion," Elizabeth said hurriedly. "It just came spilling out, I'm horribly sorry. You need not reply if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No, no, it's fine," Caroline replied, trying to dispose of her disturbed expression. "I am afraid that I know even less of your sister than you do, which is to be expected, so I can't really give you any helpful advice on this matter, but if it makes you feel any better, I found Jane to be the healthiest and most delightful creature when I saw the two of them in London."

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment. To be perfectly honest, even Caroline herself was rather surprised at herself. Had she just comforted Elizabeth Be- Darcy? Unbelievable.

"It does help, thank you," Elizabeth eventually said graciously. Caroline tried to give a genuine smile. It came out looking more like she had constipation, but at least it was genuine.

\- _Three days later_ -_  
_

Caroline navigated the dark hallways with a familiar ease. She had walked down this hallway so many times, the map of the building was practically imprinted upon her brain. Pemberley had always been like a second home. The number of times she and her siblings had visited the Darcys were uncountable and the regal, tall pillars made her feel right at home.

It was a pity she had to leave in the evening, and not on a bright sunny morning when she knew her departure would at least be the talk of the small town for the rest of the day, but she had not been lying (for once) when she said that Henry had urgent matters to take care of in London.

He had offered to go on ahead alone and make some arrangements so that she could stay on at Pemberley for a few more weeks like they had originally planned, but Caroline was getting rather sick of hiding behind masks as well. It was pretty clear to her that she and Elizabeth Darcy would always have a fairly intense resentment towards each other and while it was a great joy to be able to see Darcy again, talking to Elizabeth every day was frankly exhausting.

She felt like she hardly even knew her name anymore. Talking to Elizabeth wasn't just exhausting, it was endlessly confusing. It was like she was an actual _person_ (which she was, of course, it made it all the more worse) and Caroline doesn't know when she decided to view Elizabeth as a human instead of a thorn in her side but it sure did not take place when she was in the right mind.

Everything felt like a pain. She just wanted to go home, so she had hastily agreed when Henry had asked if she wanted to accompany him back. Now all she had to do was inform them that she was leaving as well.

She reached for the handle of the study door, only to stop short when she heard voices from inside.

"..._Caroline's still sort of a pain."_

"_She's Charles' sister._"_  
_

Of course. Not a friend, just Charles' pathetic sister. She was tired of the world today. First it sent her confusing messages about not everyone being a villain in a soap opera and then it gave her this sort of grief.

"_Not to mention a close friend."_

Oh.

"_There's no need to go on and on about treating people with capital r Respect. We all know how very respectful and polite you are at the parties, after all."_

_"Elizabeth..."_

A laugh. "_Alright, alright. What __I _wanted_ to say was that her personality's actually improved remarkably. She's a pain, but she... has some virtues._"

"_Caroline's loyalty is certainly something to be treasured._"

"_Ah, yes, of course. She also has some surprisingly good advice to offer! Who knew? Speaking of which, Colonel Fitzwilliam sent me a letter recently with some fairly decent advice regarding the management of the estate. He said that..."_

This was a good time to enter. She knocked sharply on the door and swung open the door with a stiff "Good evening", burying down her several layers of confusion.

* * *

**28 here! Phew. If you're wondering why Caroline's been there for quite long, people back then used to visit other people and stay for months on end. I'm not entirely sure why...?  
**

**Sorry it took so long for an update, I got severe writer's block and I'm pretty busy at the moment. The next chapter will be a big jump to the future.**


	5. 42

"No! It can't be true! Please..."

Caroline winced and swallowed down her discomfort, turning away from the scene unfolding before her. Her stomach churned, making her feel sick and like she was about to hurl. Grimacing, she shuffled to the corner of the room, Henry following at her side. Hurling was unlady-like.

Still, her eyes could not help wandering back to the scene at hand. Darcy stood forlornly next to the physician, watching Charles comfort Jane, with a blank expression. Caroline's hands trembled, and she clenched them into fists. He was shutting himself in again, turning his brain off just to deal with grief. Caroline had to admit, Darcy was absolutely incapable of dealing with his emotions.

He had been better at showing his emotions, especially his affection, when Elizabeth had been around. Caroline's brows furrowed, and she placed her dainty, gloved hand over her face. Darcy could not go back to being that cold, distant character he had turned into when his father had deceased. She would not let him.

At this, tears began to fall steadily from the corner of her bright blue eyes. This was a little rich from her. _Not let him_? She sniffled and bit her lip. Darcy barely listened to her words when Elizabeth was still there to reprimand him for his hot temper and sooth his inscrutable countenance. As if he would listen to her now.

The physician was still talking in slow, grave tones, and everything about the room made Caroline want to wring her hands out. The rest of Elizabeth's family stood huddled in a corner, her mother weeping at a screeching pitch and her father wiping his tears away silently with a handkerchief. Kitty was attempting to console her mother, Lydia was absent, and Mary stood at a considerable distance from them all with a hard expression, biting down on her lip so furiously that Caroline thought it might start to be bleed.

Now that Caroline gave it considerable thought, Mary was the only one in the room aside from Darcy that wasn't crying yet. Even the physician was gulping and trying to pretend that tears were not leaking from his eyes. Family doctor. He must have known both Darcy and Elizabeth considerably well. The illness had been sudden enough to take them by surprise. It had been four days since Elizabeth fell ill, and they all had received enough time to hurry in their carriages and on their horses to Pemberley, but nobody had seen it coming.

Elizabeth had seemed perfectly healthy the last time Caroline had seen her. Caroline had even cursed her for not even developing any clear signs of old age yet. She herself had discovered a worry line on her forehead recently, and worked extra diligently just to cover it up. It hardly even mattered now that Elizabeth was... was...

She gulped and bent over, trying to regain her composure. Henry, from his position behind her, put a hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles and whispering words of comfort. His steady, constant presence calmed her a little. She may not love her husband, but she was certainly very fond of him. He was not dashing, or exciting, but he was polite, kind and reasonably attractive. She leaned into his touch and sighed.

She still could not believe that Elizabeth was dead. She had been the same age as her, and it had all been so sudden... Did this mean she was dying too? Were they all dying? Caroline nearly _did_ hurl at the thought of that, at all the people in the room slowly becoming rotting flesh and hollow eyes. Elizabeth had been a thorn in her flesh for many years, but she had always been a constant, always been there like salt in her wounds. Losing that salt suddenly made her wounds even more unbearably painful. Why was life so unfair?

Jane was sobbing quietly into Charles' shoulder, her eyes puffy and red. Over her head, Charles shot Caroline a concerned look. She scoffed and ignored it, focusing instead on the man still standing in the middle of the room, positioned exactly where he had been when the physician had begun talking. He had not moved a hair since then. Even his chest had stopped rising and falling in the steady rhythm of his breath. Caroline wondered absently if he was still alive.

Abruptly, he stalked out of the room, not making a sound except when the door shut with a resounding click. Despite his silent movements, everyone stared after him, worry or just plain fear etched in their faces. Caroline did not blame them. She was not scared of him, but she was rather scared for him. Darcy had stopped smiling after his father passed, and Caroline had only seen that small, genuine small shine on his face after he met Elizabeth. What would happen now that she was gone? She tried not to let her apprehension show on her face.

Darcy had always held a special position in her heart. There was not a single doubt as to who she cared for most in her life. Ever since she was _six_... Dear Lord, she was a pathetic soul. Not able to handle the stuffy atmosphere in the room and the twitching discomfort in her heart, she muttered a quick excuse to Henry and left the room as quietly as possible, not wanting to make a fuss.

_Darcy... Darcy..._

_Fitzwilliam..._

She found him in outside in the chilly weather, the cold wind biting far into her skin and gnawing on her bones. He was knelt next to a bush of beautiful flowers, ones that Caroline didn't recognize. They looked a little like roses, but they had a stunning range of colours and they bloomed like a radiant sun. She had seen Elizabeth tending to them a few years ago, insisting that they would bloom to become gorgeous flowers.

Elizabeth had been right.

She had no idea what to do now. She had chased after him on impulse, and now that she achieved her objective she stood awkwardly next to the trees in the garden, both hoping and dreading that he would discover her standing behind him. She stared at his lonely figure, thin and gaunt but as handsome as she had found him the day they met. He was unmoving, silent, until all of a sudden he wasn't.

With great heaves that took the pain in Caroline's heart and multiplied it by the dozens, he hunched over and sobbed. The sound he emitted was like a dying animal's, and it made Caroline weep along with him. She took a handkerchief from a pocket and blew her nose, trying to make as little sound as possible. The scene before her was horrifying, but she could not look away from it, like a blindly painful sun your eyes could not help but be drawn to. She felt like she was intruding upon something horribly private and personal, but she could not bear to leave.

To be honest, it was probably because Caroline had never seen her childhood friend show so much emotion before. He wept and he cried, and at one time Caroline thought he might have been screaming into the ground beneath him, clutching at clumps of grass and letting the dirt soil his smooth palms. The ridges in his fingers were pressed into the blades of grass, as though searching for something precious that he had lost. Caroline's heart shattered and she took a shuddering breath, hoping the air would help ease the sharp ache in her chest, but all it did was make her choke on her own feelings.

_How exactly_, she wondered to herself, _did Elizabeth Darcy née __Benett manage to hurt so many people in this one devastating blow?_

* * *

Two and a half months later, she receives some news and collapses in the sitting room. The doctor said Darcy had been depressed for many weeks, was not eating well, and that it had been rather inevitable.

Caroline breaks all the glassware in the house that day.

Henry orders new sets and stays silent about it.

_End._

* * *

**Eh, this was a tricky chapter. I had writer's block with it for a pretty long time. This is the end of this five-part fic. I've had fun writing Caroline, but I was deathly afraid I would write her out of character the entire time. Thank you for sticking with me till the end, and do point out any mistakes I have made at your convenience, because I don't really have a beta, haha.**

**Update: A reviewer asked, so yes. Darcy died. Uhm. Sorry about that.**


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